“Yes, from Miss Phill—that is, Mrs. Hathaway herself.”
Lindsay had given him some information about their marriage? He could only stare at the man, more and more puzzled.
“Pertaining to the fraudulent claims made by Miss Phillips concerning your…er…conduct prior to the matrimony.”
Damien straightened, his mind beginning to focus on the man’s meaning. “You mean the fact that Mrs. Hathaway claimed to lose her virtue?”
“Precisely.” The man’s eyes took on a sharpness. “Claimed being the word in question here. For the fact, Reverend Hathaway, is that Miss Phillips had not lost her virtue, is that not so?”
Damien felt as if he’d been put on the witness stand. Why should this man treat him so, when he had no reason to hide the fact from him? “That is correct. Miss Phillips was chaste when she came to me, and remained so while under my protection.”
The lawyer leaned forward, beginning to show some animation as if they were now coming to the heart of the matter. “Mr. Phillips will be happy to know you are prepared to acknowledge this fact.”
“Why should I not?”
“Because it is key to an annulment.”
A chunk of ash fell onto the grate in the silence. “How does this affect our present marriage?” Did Lindsay’s father know his daughter was no longer untouched? That she’d even carried Damien’s child?
“I do not know if you are aware of the contingencies for an annulment, but among them is fraud.”
Fraud? The word sent a rush of foreboding through him.
“Mrs. Hathaway was underage when she made the fraudulent claim respecting her loss of virtue. Therefore, her father consented to a marriage between the two of you. I believe it can be effectively argued that fraud was involved to obtain her father’s consent. If we can prove this, it should pave the way for an annulment between Miss Phillips and yourself.”
Damien listened with growing disbelief at the conversation. Hardly able to formulate the words, he managed to ask, “Is this what Miss—Mrs. Hathaway has requested?”
The lawyer fiddled with his watch chain, not meeting Damien’s gaze. “This is how I have been instructed to proceed by my client Mr. Phillips. It is my understanding that Miss Phillips is not opposing her father’s wishes.”
Damien’s shoulders slumped. He had not heard from Lindsay in a couple of days. Had she finally realized she belonged with her father?
He should be glad. She would be free.
“Reverend Hathaway, are you all right?”
He forced himself to sit up and face the lawyer. “Yes, quite.” He struggled to order his thoughts. “If you have the legal grounds to proceed with the annulment, why come to see me?”
“I came here to inform you of the circumstances as they stand now and to ascertain whether you will cooperate with our motion to annul this marriage, or whether you will be opposed.”
He could still oppose the move?
For a moment, time stood still for him. When he’d married Lindsay, he’d planned on returning her to her father. Now, he had a chance to keep her bound to him. But he’d never wanted that for her.
The secret hopes he’d nourished that Lindsay would return to him rose up to mock him. Hadn’t he listened to the lawyer? She’d realized that an annulment was for the best. Instead of feeling relief, he felt only a hollow ache that all hope was gone.
“I have been instructed to offer you full reinstatement to the church, full restitution of your name—” the man coughed once again “—and a sizeable sum of money as indemnification for all you have suffered since that unfortunate day.”
“Unfortunate for whom?” The words were said so quietly he didn’t think the solicitor would catch them.
“Why, for you.” He looked around the squalid surroundings. “You have suffered much since the day of your matrimony. Miss Phillips and her father wish nothing more than to see you fully reinstated to your former position.”
Damien stood and turned away from the man, unable to endure listening to him anymore.
The man rose behind him. “If you wish more time to consider this proposition, you may have a few more days. But let me warn you, the longer you delay, the more detrimental to Miss Phillips’s name.”
Damien swung around to face him. “You may tell your client that I need no more time. He may proceed with the annulment. I shall not oppose it.” He held up his hand. “But I want to make it clear I will accept no payment from Mr. Phillips, nor anything else from him.”
The man’s eyes rounded. “But, sir, your name, your reputation—”
Damien made his way to the door and held it open. “None of that is his concern. Now, good day to you, Mr.—er—”
“Goldsmith.”
“Mr. Goldsmith.”
The man bowed and stepped over the threshold, turning back to Damien. “I have taken the liberty to leave my card on the table if you should wish to contact me. Otherwise—”
Damien heard no more. The click of the door latch ushered in silence once more.
Lindsay had told her father of her false claim. Why would she tell him that unless she was seeking a way out of her marriage?
She would at last have her freedom. An annulment was not as terrible as a divorce. An annulment meant she had a chance to rebuild her life, perhaps to remarry some day.
Slowly, he turned back to the room. He would do as Lindsay and her father wished. It was what he had wanted all along. The Lord had answered his prayer. Lindsay would have her freedom, her former life restored to her.
Why then did he feel so dead inside?
Abigail reached out her pudgy hand for the floppy rag doll Mr. Phillips held up. “Say ‘dolly.’”
“Do-lly.”
“That’s right, dolly.”
Lindsay hugged the girl about her waist as they sat on her father’s bed, glad to see him better today. She’d been so afraid of his state a few days before that she had not dared bring up the subject of her marriage again. Instead she’d written to Damien, telling him that her father was on the mend. “That’s a good girl. That’s your new dolly Grandfather has given you.”
Mr. Phillips handed her the doll.
“Dolly,” the girl repeated, gazing at the new toy in her hands.
“She’s a beautiful child,” Lindsay’s father said as he lay back on his pillows.
Lindsay rested her chin against the child’s silky hair and looked across at her father. “She is, isn’t she?”
“She can stay with you as long as you like.”
She blinked at her father. “Of course.”
“Do you want to make her your ward officially?”
She pursed her lips. “I hadn’t thought that far ahead, but, yes, I do,” she said, nodding her head more emphatically as the idea grew.
“Otherwise some member of her family—or someone who claims to be—might show up someday and try to take her away from you.”
She squeezed the child closer to herself. “Oh, no!”
“People will do anything if they smell money.”
She laughed, relieved. “In that case, I have no worries, since I’ve no money of my own.”
Her father smiled indulgently. “All I have will be yours one day.”
“You disinherited me, or don’t you remember?”
He waved a pale hand. “That is over. I’ve already instructed Mr. Goldsmith to change my will back.”
She was touched. “You didn’t have to do that, Father.”
He frowned, uncomprehending. “But you’re back. Of course I had to.”
She cleared her throat softly. “Does that mean you forgive me?”
“You acted foolishly and hastily. You have compromised your own future, but I believe there is still a remedy.”
Lindsay stiffened. “Papa, I told you, no annulment is possible.”
“On the contrary, my dear. After some consultations with Mr. Goldsmith, we may have a solution.”
She strove for a calm tone, unwilli
ng to alarm Abby. “What are you saying?”
“You gave us the key we needed,” her father continued. “Fraud. You lied to me about your supposed loss of virtue to that cleric. My consent was based on false information. Mr. Goldsmith says we have a very good case for an annulment. Hathaway will not oppose the move to annul and will cooperate.”
Lindsay stood, careful not to jar Abby, and stared at her father. “What are you talking about, Papa? I am married to Damien, whether you like it or not. No annulment is possible.”
“An annulment is not only possible, but it is the only solution as I see it to reinstating you to your rightful position here at home.”
Lindsay set Abby down on the bed where the child continued to play with her new doll. “Papa, I have no intention of remaining here. As soon as you are well enough I am returning to Damien. That is my rightful place. I’ve made no secret of that.”
He made a face of disgust. “That won’t be possible in any case. The curate has given his full consent.”
She stared. Damien consented to an annulment? Her greatest fear had come to pass. “How do you know this?”
“Mr. Goldsmith went to see him yesterday.”
She should have gone to Damien herself! Why had she let her father’s weak condition prevent her? “What did Damien say?”
“Why, what I supposed he would when offered a sizeable amount of money and restitution to the church.”
Lindsay felt so faint she was forced to retake her seat. Her father had offered Damien money? A bribe? How despicable!
Her father smiled thinly. “So, you see, that cleric is not the saint you make him out to be. He is as weak as most men.”
“You’re lying. Damien would never accept money from you.” But Damien had not replied to her letters.
“Wouldn’t he? Not even to help the poor rabble he preaches to?”
Her conviction weakened. No, it couldn’t be true.
“Lindsay, I know it is difficult to accept, but think, my dear, how much better an annulment will be. You have suffered nothing but hardship saddled to that curate. You will be reinstated to your former position in society if you remain here, and your daughter will have every advantage.”
Lindsay forced her breath to calm, knowing she was fighting for her marriage, for her very survival. “Forgive me, Papa. I do not mean to upset you, but your talk of annulment has shaken me.”
“Then let us speak of it no more. Mr. Goldsmith will take care of everything. He can also arrange Abigail’s future while he is about it. Let your mind be easy.”
Despite her father’s delicate condition, she had to put a stop to this line of thinking. Once again, her father was making decisions for her as if he owned her, body and soul. He had put her off once, but she would not allow him to control her any further. She would not consent to losing Damien without a fight. For the first time in her life, she had something worth fighting for.
“Papa, I must make one thing clear. Mr. Goldsmith will arrange nothing for me. If you must disinherit me, so be it, but I intend to return to Damien. He needs me. I need him. My life is with him now.”
Her father heaved a sigh. “You were never head-strong before you met that cursed clergyman. He has taught you nothing but rebellion and defiance. He’s dragged you into poverty and degradation.”
“Damien has taught me none of those things! He has taught me to be a true follower of Jesus. I’m the one who brought him to the poverty he now suffers.” Her throat suddenly closed up, thinking of Damien alone and deprived as he must be now. “I must go to him.” She suddenly felt a sense of urgency. She had to see him and get to the truth!
A sense of panic filling her, she bent down and grabbed up Abby from the bed. “Come, darling, we must go visit your Papa.”
“Lindsay, I forbid you to go to that man!”
Balancing Abby on her hip, she looked at her father. Her heart quailed at the sight of him still looking so frail. The two stared at each other. “I love him, Papa, and he needs me.”
Finally, he broke the connection and shook his head. “What happened to the daughter who looked up to her father and respected his wisdom?”
“I grew up, Papa. Don’t forget, you taught me to think and analyze. Damien has taught me—” she swallowed, her gaze going to Abby “—how to love.”
“And if he doesn’t want you?”
She remembered her father’s words and fear filled her. “You said he agreed to an annulment?”
“Oh, yes. At least he understands, as I, that it is best for you.”
Did Damien truly want to be free of her? It is best for you. Her father’s words echoed in her mind.
Clarity abruptly pierced her. Damien was trying to give her back her old life. Dear, foolish, noble man! Why hadn’t she understood that? All those months living with him, seeing his sadness over believing he had taken something away from her. He’d never understood that he’d given her so much more than she’d ever had. He had been a true example of Christ-like love to her. Strength clothed in humility.
She moved toward the door. “Papa, I must go. I’m sorry.”
“No!”
“Papa, don’t be upset. I love him and he needs me.”
Without waiting to hear more protests, she exited her father’s bedroom, deaf to his protests. “We’re going for a short ride, my dear,” she murmured against Abby’s ear.
With fingers that shook, she prepared Abby for the chilly December day. She threw a few things into a satchel, intending to stay at her home, with Damien, if she could help it. Dear God, show Damien that we belong together as a family.
When Lindsay arrived at the run-down lodging house, never had a home looked better. The landlady was exiting as Lindsay entered the building.
“Back, are ye?”
“Of course I am. This is my home.” With a flourish of her cloak, Lindsay sailed past her and on up the stairs.
Her confidence shriveled to nothing by the time she arrived at their door. It was deathly silent up here. Would Damien be home? Uttering a prayer, she took hold of the knob and turned. She sagged in relief to find it unbolted.
The first thing she experienced was the cold in the room. No cheerful fire burned in the grate. The sight that greeted her wrung her heart. Damien sat hunched over the small table, a lone candle lighting the gloom of the early evening, his attention fixed on a dismantled clock.
Before she could take a step, Abby made a noise.
Damien immediately looked up and froze.
“I’m back,” she said softly.
He rose so quickly, his chair toppled backward. After he’d righted it, he advanced, shoving unruly locks from his forehead with his hand. “Lindsay—! Wh-what are you doing here? I thought—” he stopped and she detected the flush on his cheeks.
She took a step into the room and shut the door quietly behind her. “You thought what?” She stared at him, trembling inside lest he reject her.
He swallowed, his eyes never leaving her face. “Your father…he-how does he fare?” he stuttered.
“He is on the mend. Quite out of the woods. I told him it was time for me to come home.” She stressed the word deliberately, watching his reaction.
“He didn’t—uh—speak to you?”
“About what?” She would not make it easy for him to disavow their wedding vows.
At that moment, Abby squirmed to get down. She stared up at Damien and suddenly smiled, holding out her rag doll. “Dolly?”
His glance fell to her and he crouched down. “Hello, there, poppet, what do have there?”
His smile wrung her heart and Lindsay yearned to throw herself on him. She held back and watched the interplay between him and Abby.
“Dolly.”
“Yes, I see you have a doll. How pretty she is. What is her name?”
She looked at him puzzled. “Dolly.”
“Yes, of course. Dolly.” When the child took a step toward him, he put a hand on her hair and caressed it. “It’s nice to see y
ou again. I’ve missed you.”
“Is it nice to see me, too?” Lindsay asked him, the words unplanned.
His eyes met hers immediately and he swallowed. Suddenly, he stood. “You’re trembling.” He looked around the room, as if noticing the temperature. “I’m sorry, I don’t have a fire made up. Come, sit down, and I’ll get it going and get you something hot to drink.” Before she could say anything, he took her to the settee, then knelt down and began arranging the kindling.
By then Abby was tired, so Lindsay busied herself spreading a blanket on the couch. The child lay with the doll held close. “Why don’t you have a fire?”
He paused a second in his work. “I find it best to only light one a day, to save fuel.”
Her heart broke for his deprivations. All the time she was at her father’s, living in the lap of luxury…
When the kindling began crackling in the grate, he brushed off his hands and checked the water in the kettle.
Lindsay glanced at Abigail, and seeing she was asleep, stood and approached the hearth.
Damien took a step back.
“The cup of tea will be ready in a moment.”
“I don’t care about the tea.”
“Yes, well…then please, Lindsay, have a seat.” He pulled out one of the chairs at their small, round dining table though he remained standing. How many meals hadn’t she prepared and shared with him here? Before she’d get teary-eyed she took the seat offered.
She clasped her hands on the tabletop in front of her. “I missed you, Damien. Did you miss me at all? Why didn’t you answer any of my letters?”
He stopped in his act of spooning out the tea leaves. Slowly, his gaze connected with hers. “I wanted you to have your freedom.”
“I am married to you.”
“Didn’t your father—” He cleared his throat. “Didn’t your father tell you about the possibility of an annulment?”
She could read the struggle in his eyes.
“I missed you, too.” The words came out a hoarse whisper as he stood looking down at her, the tea forgotten.
“Then why didn’t you write to me?”
“I want you to have your freedom,” he repeated.
“I belong here, to you.”
A Bride of Honor Page 29
